"Left, now…watch; be careful, he's slowing down."
"Damn it, kid, I know how to conduct surveillance."
"Just didn't want him to see you, that's all."
"He ain't going to."
"Another left." JD called over the comm-link. "Stay low, he's circling back, no he's parking. What the hell is he doing there?"
Buck and Vin looked at each other and shrugged. They were in the older part of town, behind what used to be an old textile mill. The late 19th century building had been converted into a center for small specialty shops. The sign on the wrought iron fence surrounding the parking lot announced collector quality antiques, home furnishing centers, resident artisans, galleries, craft shops, specialty shops, a French Bakery (with wood-fired ovens), and a Gourmet Café.
"Shopping?" Vin asked puzzled.
"Twice a week, with Larabee's say-so?"
"Maybe he's on to us." Vin watched their quarry dig a small black duffle out of his trunk and sling it over his shoulder before heading for the building. "Parked far enough away," he muttered, noting that they were in the back of the lot, but still in a well-lit area.
Buck grunted his agreement and parked the non-descript agency car at the end of the row. "Let's go, before he gets too far ahead."
"Hey, I got him covered." JD protested. "Car and shirt. Told you I was trying out that new shirt button tracer."
Buck chuckled quietly. "You're just trying to save your butt if Chris finds out what we're doing."
Back in the office JD shrugged. "PYA is standard ops. Right Vin?"
"Yup." Vin grinned. 'Protect your ass' was one of Team Seven's standing principles. Granted, Chris tended to use "watch your back," but they all knew what he meant. He might not be happy that they included him in the mix. He'd get over it.
"There he is." Buck pointed towards a small café. They watched from a store selling automobile collectibles as granola, yogurt and large water were purchased.
"Ya call that food?" Vin frowned as the light meal was consumed. Fifteen minutes and one 1959 Monaco racing poster later, they were on the move again.
The next trip took them up a short ramp and to the long wrought iron staircase transecting the three story building. There weren't many people around, so the two agents hung back. JD's tracer came in handy, letting them know that he'd exited on the top floor and headed south.
A few minutes later, the two men slipped down the quiet hallway. There weren't really any shops here, mostly studios with a few offices thrown in. Late on a Thursday evening they were typically vacant, the tenants having left for the day.
Now their curiosity was really piqued. It had been for months really. Whenever he was not on assignment, the undercover agent left promptly at 6 pm on Monday and Thursday. Any other night, Standish worked till seven or eight, taking advantage of the government's flex-time policy. Which was also why he could roll into the office around ten.
When asked where he was headed, he would always give some flippant or nonsensical reply. This was par for the course from Standish anyway, but the other men noticed that Chris also made no bones about it. Ezra would simply look at the clock, nod at the SAC and head for the door. Since Larabee knew what was going on, there was no way in hell that the rest were going to be kept in the dark. They'd pestered Chris, who simply glared and told them to get back to work. They'd badgered Ezra and poked around his PC and desk. They'd even sent a discrete probe Travis's way. Nothing, nada, not a hint. So, they did what they did best and, team seven, minus two put the subject under surveillance.
"You hear from Nathan?" Buck asked from behind the potted ficus where he and Vin camping.
"Yeah, they're still finishing up the paperwork. They don't think they'll have any problem keeping Chris under wraps for another couple of hours." JD said.
Vin gestured towards the door Ezra just entered.
"Okay kid, show's on the road."
"Buck?"
"Gotta go."
"No, Buck listen, don't… ah, well you guys just remember, I mean…."
Vin spoke up quietly, "Aw, kid we ain't gonna hurt him none."
"Thanks, guys." JD said softly.
Buck gave Vin a thumbs up and the two headed for the unobtrusive gray door.
"Whoa, pard!" Vin said, eyeing the sign in disbelief.
Buck started laughing. "You have got to be kidding."
"I got to see this," Vin reached for the doorknob, nearly falling on his nose when the door opened inward.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" asked a petite blond.
Buck's time-proven ability to think on his feet kicked in, "Yes, ma'am, you see my friend here was thinking about signing up, but he wanted to observe first. I just came along to keep him company."
Vin turned six shades of crimson as the woman smiled at him. "That's great. You're both welcome. We have an advanced class beginning in about five minutes. Let me show you to the lobby, there's an observation window there where you can watch."
Piercing Buck with a glare guaranteed to strip paint, Vin followed the girl. He had to admit she was rather attractive and very nice. It didn't escape him that the outfit she was wearing outlined some pretty defined muscles. Maybe Ez was on to something.
"Sorry," he mumbled when he realized she'd asked him something.
"I was wondering where you studied before?" she said, showing them to a few straight backed chairs fronting a large glass window.
"Uh, Texas actually," Vin said, vowing to flay Buck afterward, inch by inch. He even had a new knife….
"You new to this area?" she asked, handing them both a few brochures.
"Not too long," he hedged, absently knocking the rolled up poster against his thigh.
"Well, we're always looking for advanced male students. Oh, listen, I've got to run. Randy likes to start on time. Have fun. If you have any questions, I'll be glad to talk to you after class." With that she breezed out of the room, leaving the two agents to gape open mouthed at the sight before them.
+ + + + + + +
Ezra shut his locker and took a quick glance at the full length mirror on the back of the door. He was good to go. As usual, he felt the weight of the world fall from his shoulders as soon as his feet hit the dark wooden floor of the studio.
The room was throbbing with energy. Randy bounded into the studio right behind him. Throwing an arm around Ezra he hugged him, "Hey, secret agent man, great to see you."
Rolling his eyes at the antics but dimpling in pleasure, Ezra slapped his arm. "Randy-man."
"All right, everybody, let's do it!" Randy shouted, clapping his hands. "Spread out, let's start with the regular warm-up." Cueing the battered boom box, he launched into his usual high-energy routine.
Pounding heels beat on the sprung floor and fingers tapped on lean quads as muscles bunched poised to begin on the down beat.
"Five, six, seven, eight. Head down, center, back, center, right, center, left, center. Let's go with alternating shoulders. Roll and one, two, three, four."
Music pulsing through his bones, Ezra gave himself over to the turmoil that bubbled in the dark places of his heart.
+ + + + + + +
"I ought to try that." Buck murmured watching his normally reserved co-worker drop to second position and begin to rotate alternating knees in hip-grinding maneuvers.
Vin, realizing from the dryness in his mouth that it was still standing open, closed it with a snap and mumbled something that could be taken for assent.
"Let me see extension," called the instructor leaving Vin and Buck grimacing as the class dropped into straddle splits.
"On you backs and ready to contract, six, seven, eight. Give me full motion!"
Buck's eyes narrowed appreciatively as the assembled bodies rolled flat on their backs with a sharp flap, striking the floor with their heels as thirteen pelvis' began to raise and lower. "Mercy." he muttered, shifting his stance slightly.
"Plenty of action over here." Randy laughed, passing the observation window and throwing a wink at the two agents.
Buck winked back, while Vin smiled weakly. "He's going to kill us."
Shaking his head, Buck chuckled. "He doesn't even know we're here. Look at him. He's flying."
Vin nodded. They'd never seen Ezra like this, so relaxed, so loose, so free. The man was clearly working hard. The knotted handkerchief around his forehead and the sleeveless cropped sweatshirt were both damp with perspiration. Drops of sweat ran down the rippling abs and soaked the waistband his sleek fitting pants. But the expression on his face was one of sheer abandon.
"All right boys and girls," Randy clapped his hands. "I want to see the whole combination. Gentlemen, let's show these ladies what you've got. Full out. Don't hold anything back. Don't worry about the steps, just dance."
+ + + + + + +
"And then this guy, he says just dance and whew, let me tell you that boy about knocked our socks off. Ain't that right Vin?"
"He's something."
"Well, don't keep us in suspense, let's see."
Buck started the video he and Vin surreptitiously recorded using one of JD's many electronic toys.
"What's he got on?" Their technical expert leaned forward wondering what Casey would say if she got a load of him in that outfit.
"It ain't what he's wearin'" Vin said.
"I can't believe he can do that." JD commented, turning his head slightly to watch the bodies on the screen spring through the air, seemingly with out effort .
"No wonder he aces his physicals." Nathan followed the perfect arc Ezra's leg traced through the air before he spun almost endlessly before their eyes.
"Damn, Buck you ought to get him to show you that!" JD ogled the pulsating pelvic thrusts the guys dancing had perfected.
"Yeah," Buck said absently, every move on the screen holding his eyes.
Silence filled the room as the last series of steps literally took their breath away. As the blue screen filled the monitor, they sat back and stared at each other.
"One must have chaos in his soul to give rise to a dancing star. Nietsche." Josiah intoned, pausing for a moment. "Our brother is an true artist," he noted in amazement, before lapsing back into silent contemplation of how much a man could surprise you, even after years of friendship.
"I'd pay to see him dance like that again." Vin said, still marveling over how his friend was able to defy the bonds of gravity. It was the closest thing to flight he'd ever seen.
"Me too," admitted Buck.
"It was beautiful." Nathan confessed, closing his eyes to replay the giant leap followed by those spectacular spins.
"Maybe I could rig… Oh, hi Chris." JD blushed, certain that they were busted.
"Don't you ladies have work to do?"
The team scrambled to their desks, muttering something about new surveillance techniques and upcoming training classes and paperwork. Buck smoothly ejected the tape and bustled by the profiler who was still somewhat lost in bemused introspection.
Had any of them been less concerned with their own somewhat guilty consciences, they might have noticed the amused glint in their leader's eyes. And they surely would have picked up on the soft glow of astonished pride in Ezra's eyes when he sauntered down the corridor a few moments later; apparently having just returned from a trip to the research library.
+ + + + + + +
The weather that next Friday kept the team in for lunch. A call to Trumann's deli insured that the men stayed full and dry. Casually lounging around the table in the conference room, talk turned towards weekend plans.
"I expect you all on Sunday," Chris said, "but I've got other plans for tomorrow."
"Who-eee, who's the date stud? It wouldn't happen to be a certain blond newspaper woman? Buck teased, wagging his eyebrows suggestively at his old friend.
"Nope."
"Perhaps brother Larabee just wants to have a quiet evening to himself."
"Heard that happens once you hit forty." JD opined, earning a glares from Chris and Buck and well-placed ball of foil lobbed off his head, compliments of Josiah.
Reaching into his pocket, Chris pulled out elegantly lettered tickets. "I'll have you know that I will be attending the 8th annual gala fundraiser for FACE."
"Those tickets are like sooo impossible to get." JD sat up. Casey had hounded him to death to get a pair of tickets, but they just weren't to be had. The FACE fundraiser was one the major fun happenings in Denver. Wildly popular and successful, the event drew local celebrities and artists for a unique evening of entertainment that garnered critical acclaim. No one ever knew exactly who might be there and what one-of-a-kind performance you were to see, but you knew to expect the unexpected. This was the fifth year in a row that the event was sold out.
"I tried to get tickets, they were gone before noon." Vin commented, eyeing the little slips with envy. "Those folks at FACE are good people." he added.
"Every child should have a permanent home, Mr. Tanner." Ezra said. "And those 'good people' are making tremendous strides in helping foster children find adoptive families. No child is unwanted, though many haven't found their family yet."
Buck favored the undercover agent with a big smile. "Damn right, Ez. So, pard how did you get those tickets?"
Chris cocked his head on the side and gave them one of his rare but endearing grins. "One of the performers happens to be a good friend."
"Who do you know?" Nathan blurted, flushing at his rather tactless presentation.
"Oh, somebody real close."
Buck sat puzzled. He was pretty familiar with most of Larabee's friends and couldn't place who he might be referring to.
Larabee stretched languidly before reaching into his pocket and fanning out seven more tickets and laying them in front of the astonished group with a smug flourish.
Josiah mentally ticked off their names, matching each to one of the coveted documents.
Nathan sighed quietly, he'd dearly love to take Rain. It was even one of her rare weekends off.
Vin leaned back, surveying the faces at the table and began to laugh. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out his checkbook. He laughed harder as he made out the check, thinking of the lines of a ubiquitous credit card commercial. Tuxedo rental, $50. Tickets to an exclusive and worthy fundraiser, $200. To see a friend write poetry with his body, priceless.
Chris shook his head, leave it to Tanner. The others watched in amazement as Vin handed the check over to Ezra who was intently studying the remains of his sandwich.
"Thanks, Ezra." he said softly.
Buck brightened as he realized what was happening and stood to dig out his dog-eared wallet. "Well, fellas looks like we have an in with one of the performers too."
JD's mouth flew open. "How did you…well, I mean, we didn't mean anything bad. Geez, Ezra I'm sorry."
"Thank you, Mr. Dunne." Ezra beamed, "They say that those who eavesdrop never hear anything good about themselves, but I am glad to testify that it ain't necessarily so."
The five men were stunned for a moment, but realizing that Larabee and Standish had beaten them at their own game and to good effect, they couldn't help but laugh.
Chris gladly handed out the tickets as each man made his contribution, a bit relieved and gratified that his plan worked out. He'd seen the initial hurt in the man's tense relaying of how his teammates had invaded his privacy. He was also once more astounded at the trust his undercover agent placed in him. Though he might never be able to put it in words, the implicit faith Ezra showed in him meant the world to him. He knew he had his team's faith and loyalty, but somehow that given so freely by Ezra was the most precious. Perhaps because it had come at such a price for the reticent man. In any case, he'd been honored and a bit disconcerted by the awesome responsibility he was given.
Listening now to the excited comments and softly drawled replies, Chris mentally congratulated himself on playing his cards right.
Handing one of the extra tickets to JD and another to Nathan, he enjoyed the surprised looks.
Ezra spoke up, "I thought you gentlemen would like to make use of those for Miss Casey and Miss Rain." He shrugged, "Those were gifts from the Mrs. Travis, but seeing as I couldn't use them...
JD hollered his thanks, already out the door to call his girl.
"Thank you, Ezra." Nathan said. "I'm sorry. There's no excuse for invading your privacy like we did…"
"No, there isn't," Ezra said sternly, almost laughing at the wounded puppy-dog eyes. Man must be taking lessons from JD. Waving his hand, he grinned. "No harm done."
Nathan flashed a brilliant smile before loping out to call Rain.
Josiah held out his hand, "My apologies."
"Accepted."
Josiah clapped a meaty hand on Ezra's shoulder. "Glad you decided to let your light shine."
Buck and Vin sat sheepishly under Larabee's exacting scrutiny.
"Told Ryan that you two would be glad to fill in on a little extra surveillance, seeing as your both so proficient with the new equipment."
The two agents cringed, but knew better than to argue. Besides, with a shared glance, they agreed; it was worth it.
"What's this?" Vin asked, looking at the application form Ezra laid in front of them.
The disarming smile made the sharpshooter squirm uncomfortably.
"You did say you studied in Texas?"
Buck's roar of laughter was choked off when the Southerner asked. "And Mr. Wilmington, you were interested in lessons also?"
"Well, now pard…"
"Think they'll have to pay us to watch them?" Chris asked, clasping Ezra around the neck and steering him out of the room.
"Care to make a wager?" he replied.
They both burst into laughter when Vin's quiet, "Aw hell." followed them out the door.
The End
